TOWER   OF   IVORY 


TOWER   OF    IVORY 


,  • 

BY 

ARCHIBALD    MACLEISH 


WITH  A  FOREWORD  BY 

LAWRENCE    MASON 

Assistant  Professor  of  English  in  Yale  College 


NEW  HAVEN:    YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:    HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MDCCCCXVII 


COPYRIGHT,   1917 
BY  YALE  UNIVERSITY   PRESS 


First  printed,  November,   1917 


ll 


T7 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Certain  of  the  following  poems  have  appeared 
in  The  Tale  Review  and  Harper's  Weekly. 
To  the  editors  and  owners  of  these  magazines 
the  author  desires  to  express  his  appreciation  of 
their  courtesy  in  permitting  him  to  reprint. 


646564 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Foreword vii 

Our  Lady  of  Troy 1 

Echo 22 

Grief 22 

An  Eternity 24 

Escape 25 

The   Circle 27 

My  Body  and  I 27 

The  Bugles  Pass 29 

"To  Lucasta,  On  Going  to  the  Wars"  ...  30 

The  Easter  of  Swords  (April  8,  1917)       .      .  32 

Sonnet  (The  Parting  of  the  Ways)     ...  33 

Morituri 34 

The  Cost  of  War 35 

The  Showman  (A  Portrait) 36 

An  Antique  Shop 37 

The  Silence 38 

Maria  Mea 39 

Imagery 40 

Immortality 41 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The  Altar 44 

Dusk 45 

A  Library  of  Law 46 

A  Sampler 48 

Ballade 49 

The  'Chantress 50 

A  Song  for  the  Harp 52 

Certain  Poets 54 

A  Song 56 

Lilies 57 

Charity 59 

To  My  Son 59 

Soul-Sight 60 

Jason 61 

The  Hills  of  Cleeve 63 

Indian   Summers 64 

The  Reed-Player 65 

Baccalaureate 67 

Realities   .  68 


TOWER   OF   IVORY 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY 

[In  the  Dutch  translation  of  the  original 
Faust  Legend,  published  by  Spiess  in 
Frankfurt  in  1587,  it  is  established  that 
the  "notorious  sorcerer  and  black-artist" 
was  seized  by  the  Devil  at  midnight  o-i  the 
23 d  of  October,  1538,  while  sitting  with 
a  company  of  students  in  the  tavern 'qf 
Rimlich  near  Wittenberg.] 

[Scene :  The  great  room  of  an  ancient  tavern 
in  the  village  of  Rimlich.  Stubs  of  candles 
guttering  in  their  sconces  on  the  back  wall, 
and  a  smouldering  fire  in  a  wide  chimney- 
place  give  an  uncertain  light.  Three  stu 
dents  from  Wittenberg  sit  together  at  one 
end  of  the  oak  table.  They  are  singing  in 
high  good  humor.  At  the  other  end  of 
the  board  sits  Faustus,  wrapped  in  a  great 
cloak  still  wet  from  the  storm  that  beats 
at  door  and  window,  and  beside  him  is  his 
servant,  Wagner.  A  strange  horologe 
on  the  back  wall  points  to  half-past 
eleven.] 


TOWER  OF  IVORY 


Students  [singing] 

In  duke  jubilo — 

Drink  and  be  merry,  oh ! 
Wine  is  old  laughter. 

Whoso  will  rise  again 

Sickens  and  dies  again 
Here  and  hereafter. 

;No  immortality 

But  this  reality 
Lasts  a  day  longer. 

Drink  and  be  merry,  oh! 

In  dulce  jubilo — 
Death  is  the  stronger. 


Christopher 

Better   lads!      Some'at   better, — you   there, 

Fritz, 

Your  diatonics  would  make  Ockenheim 
Writhe  i'  the  worms.     You  should  have  Ah 

— not  Ah — 
On  that  first  jubilo — o — o. 

Matthiolus 

Hush  you !    We  stopped  the  stranger  in  his 
tale. 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY 


He'd  glimpsed  at  Eden  from  the  Caucasus 
When  you  two  started  Duke — 'tis  a  tune 
I  can't  forbear  the  taste  of — jubilo  1 
But   come,   good   Doctor;   here's   to   Eden. 

Health ! 
Saw  you  the  serpent? 

Faustus 

I  saw  naught  to  fear. 
There's     naught     to     fear     from     Heaven 

through  to  Hell; 
Nothing  that  mind  can't  solve.     Mind  is  the 

king — 

Fritz 

And   queen   too — ah   the    gold   and   scarlet 

minds 

O'  Lasses!    Hey  lads?    And  the  golden  lips 
Of    many    golden    tunes, — how    goes    the 

song  ? — 
"Bursts  the  red  grape,  sweet  oh  sweet ! 

Lips  o'  maid  are  sweeter." 

Christopher 

Be  still,  Fritz!     That's  an  evil  tune, — thin 
tune, 


TOWER  OF  IVORY 


No  true  antiphony.  Grant  him  a  space 
To  save  himself  from  craggy  Caucasus 
Before  you  make  a  rainbow  of  a  maid. 

Faustus 

Ah,  you've  the  true  mathesis,  sir,  the  pure 
Sciential.     Step  by  step  your  logic  mind 
Works  to  the  core  of  things;  seeks  me  out 

first 

An  elixation,  seething  of  the  thoughts 
Hot  in  the  stew-pan  of  the  brain  before 
Elixir's  had.     All  true  philosophy 
Progresses  thus;  expulsion  here,  and  here 
Assation  till  the  pure  digested  truth 
Turns  into  fire, — else  there  is  myopsy 
And  phantoms  seen. 

Christopher 

The  true  mathesis,  Fritz! 
You  mark?     I'm  hailed  philosopher. 

Fritz 

His  eye 
Reflects  a  certain  doubt  upon  his  tongue. 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY 


Faustus 

The  Epicuran,  Leo  Decimus, 

Had  such  a  mind.     He  questioned  how  the 

soul 

Which  was  not,  was,  and  then  was  not  again 
Should  be  immortal;  so  he  summoned  him 
His  doctors  and  his  clerks  and  bade  them 

speak 

Backward  and  forward,  he  digesting  all 
Their  doctrines  and  logomachies  and  rules, 
Believing  here,  denying  there,  and  ending 
With  Gallus' :  "Redit  in  nihilum  quod  ante 
Nihil."     And  judged  uncommon  well.     The 

soul, 

Or,  as  your  Paracelsus  saith,  the  four 
Seed  covers  of  the  spirit — what  are  these 
But  thought  ill-elixate,  a  crapula 
Troubling  the  brain  ? 

But  I  digress  somewhat 
From  Eden;  so  did  mother  Eve,  but  she 
Was  woman.     Man  must  ever  set  his  face 
Toward  the  sunset,  make  his  pilgrim  way 
Into  the  West.    There  is  no  pause  for  dream 
With  all  the  shining  kingdom  of  the  mind, 
All  truth,  all  science,  all  the  stars  to  reap, 
And  Time  forever  clattering  at  heel 


TOWER  OF  IVORY 


Like  bones  the  children  tic  to  yelping  curs. 
So  then,  our  true  mathesis,  next  and  next! 
From  Caucasus  I  wandered  back  to  Rome — 
Three  days  in  the  Vatican  invisible, 
Ate  with  the  Pope,  snatched  from  his  holy 

dish 

Beneath  his  holy  fingers,  stole  his  cup 
Out  from  his  stretching  hand;  oh  saints!  to 

see 

Him  grasp  for  wine  to  cool  a  burning  tongue, 
Blistered  with  meat,  and  miss  the  cup  and 

stare 
Mouth    open    at    its    sudden    flight    toward 

Heaven, 
While  all  the  table  thumbed  their  beads  and 

gasped 

Nunc  dimittis,  and  crossed  at  brow  and  chin. 
They  rang  the  bells  three  hours  to  flout  the 

devil. 

Christopher 

They   blamed  the   devil,   then. — It's   so   at 

Rome: 
Lack  food,  lack  gold,  lack  kisses,  blame  the 

devil ! 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY 


Mattthiolus 

The  fools !     I  follow  Scaliger,  who  says 
The  devil's  dead.     Old  Trismegistus'  self 
Ne'er  saw  him — only  hoofspore  in  the  sand, 
His  ass  no  doubt.     And  as  for  your  nine 

orders, 

Beelzebub,  Apollo  Pythius, 
Belial,  Asmodaeus,  and  Abaddon, 
Diabalos,  Meresin,  Satan,  Mammon, — 
Your  hierarchy  of  sprites  terrestrial, 
Sublunary,  aquatic, — earth  and  sky, 
I'll  none  of  'em. 

Faustus 

Your  sciolist  in  truth ! 

Your  true  agnosticus!     "Unseen,  Unknown" 
Is  sacred  text  for  schoolmen.    I  myself 
With  deepest  cabalistic — metaphysic — 
What  have  I  found  o'  midnights  in  the  flame? 
No  satyrs,  cacodemons,  foliots, 
No  Bel  of  Babylon,  no  Greek  Astartes, 
No  fairies  such  as  Paracelsus  saw, 
Nor  naiads  that  Olaus  Magnus  met 
And    feasted   with    on   some   moon-stricken 
shore, 


8  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Nothing   of  these, — but  one   who   is   sheer 

mind, 

The  globing  crystal  of  the  world  wherein 
All  knowledge  gleams  and  darkens,  one  who 

knows 

The  eagle's  way  in  air,  the  snake's  on  sand, 
And  man's  way  who  is  eagle  both  and  worm. 

Matthiolus 

A  marvel  truly — was't  Vergilius 
The  sorcerer  of  Rome? 

Christopher 

Was't  Aristotle? 

Wagner 

I  pray  you,  master,  hearken  how  the  storm 
Breathes  in  the  hush,  and  troubled  thunder 

crawls 

Along  the  rim  of  earth.    'Tis  almost  time, 
'Tis  almost  midnight.    Hearken ! 

Faustus 

So,  my  boy! 

'Twill  be  at  midnight.    Naming  of  a  name 
Ne'er  brought  Shekinah  sooner  to  the  ark. 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY 


Wagner  [hurriedly] 

You  told  them,  master,  how  the  bells  were 

rung 

At  Rome  to  flout  the  devil.    Tell  them  now 
How  you  became  Mahomet. 

Faustus 

Ha!  Mahomet! 

To  see  me  clad  in  linen  setting  forth 
A  crocodility  of  hours  and  houris! 
The  sultan  prayed  to  me ;  but  Moslem  faith 
Is  no  theology  for  scholars.     Phew! 
I'll  warrant  there  were  heretics  enough 
Fouling  the  sacred  porches  where  I  taught. 

Wagner 
And  then  the  serpent ! 


I  turned  to  gold. 


Faustus 

Ah,  the  golden  snake 

Wagner 
The  burning  fiery  ice ! 


io  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Faustus 

Here,  lad,  you're  puffing  out  the  tale.    'Twas 

fire 
I  froze  to  ice — the  crystal  phlogiston. — 

[To  Matthiolus] 

You,  sir,  will  understand.     But  ice  on  fire ! 
Not  Vergil's  self  had  science  to  do  that. 

Wagner 
And  how  you  made  king  Alexander  walk! 

Faustus 

Hush!     Hush!     The  emperor  was  not  o'er- 

pleased 
And  all  of  Innsbruck  chattered  in  its  bed. 

Fritz 

King  Alexander !    Nay,  we  heard  the  tale. — 
A  certain  Faustus,  a  philosopher, 
Who  had  a  magic  to  restore  the  dead 
And  make  them  rise.    Are  you — 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY  n 

Christopher 

King  Alexander ! 

And  did  he  speak?     Was't  Greek?     What 
said  he  then? 

Faustus 

No  word.    You  understand  my  science  ill 
Who  think  I  raise  the  dead.    The  dead  are 

dead. 
They    lie    who    say    that    lamblicus    once 

wrought 

Centurions  of  Caesar  out  of  air, 
That  battled  and  were  stricken  and  could 

strike. 

The  dead  are  dead; — but  metaphysic  knows 
How  smoke  may  shine  like  armor  and  be 

blown 

To  features  of  dead  kings.     'Tis  so  with  all 
Man  knows  or  ever  shall  know  to  the  end. 
Mind  shall  be  king,  shall  break  in  through 

the  glass 

That  shows  itself,  itself;  shall  analyse 
And  test  and  know  and  fashion  into  word 
The  thing  that  Is ;  but  no  thought  ever  shall, 
Until  this  siderated  sphere  be  burst 


12  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Into  a  million  twinklings,  build  new  thing, 
Nor  call  up  life  or  beauty  from  the  void, 
Nor  make  the  dead  whose  flesh  is  dead,  alive. 

Fritz 

I  wallow  in  old  ignorance.    But  still 
There's  miracle  in  that  apparent  smoke 
You  hold  so  lightly. 

Christopher 

Aye,  that's  miracle 
To  make  their  hair  move.     Show  us  but  a 

glimpse 

Of  that  smoke-Alexander,  and  your  name 
Shall  ride  with  Nostradamus'  Pleiades 
Down  to  the  end  of  Time. 

Matthiolus 

By  Heaven,  Yes ! 

I'll  write  you  in  clear  latin,  with  a  boss 
Of  gold  and  crimson,  on  the  parchment  roll 
Of  Wittenberg's  immortals.     But  no  smoke 
Of  Alexander.    'Twas  a  tearful  king, 
A  bulk  of  griefs. 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY  13 

Christopher 

The  Apostate  Julian 
Declares  his  soul  had  entered  into  flesh 
Before  he  conquered  Persia.    He  would  be 
No  better  than  a  lion. 

Fritz 

Circe  then ! 
We'll  have  a  woman.     What's  an  age-dead 

man? 

Old  heroes  are  as  thick  as  water-cress. 
But  women,  Ah! — the  roses  that  are  fallen, 
Stars  that   are   dust,   old  sorrows   and  old 

songs ! 
What  woman? 

Matthiolus 
Helen  of  Troy! 

All 

Helen  of  Troy ! 
Come,  call  her  back  for  us,  let  us  see  Helen ! 

Faustus 

Nay,   she  would  be  but   smoke,   a   puff   of 
smoke, 


14  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Smoke  and  a  shadow,  woman  and  no  flesh; 
What  fool  desires  a  woman  that  no  arms 
May   crush  the  wine   of,   and  no  lips   find 
sweet  ? 

All 
Helen  of  Troy,  Call  Helen  up,  Call  Helen! 

Matthiolus 

Show  us  that  mind  can  fashion  out  of  air 
The  beauty  that  the  flesh  surrendered  up. 

Wagner 

Nay  master,  let  these  necromancies  be, 
These  magics  out  of  air,  these  vaporous 
Appearances  of  flesh  long  turned  to  mould. 
The  clock  whirs  for  the  hour.     Oh  make 

your  peace 
With  heaven,  if  there  still  be — 

Faustus 

Silence  thou! 

The  mind  knows  no  conclusion,  finds  no  end, 
But  its  own  seeking;  and  my  seeking  was 
The  true  entelechy,  the  living  seed, 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY  15 

The  root  wherefrom  this  universe  is  blown 
A  golden  flower.    Shall  I  stand  because 
Time  threatens  me?    Shall  I  not  rather  flaunt 
My  learning  in  the  face  of  him  and  say: 
"Here  see  how  I  make  mock  of  you,  how  I 
Have  digged  this  richest  treasure  from  the 

soil 

Of  old  forgotten  centuries  of  time; 
How  I,  whom  you  shall  conquer,  yet  strike 

down 

Your  mystery  and  set  this  little  brain 
The  worms  shall  spoil,   above  your  awful- 
ness — 

And  all  with  science-ashes  and  a  smoke !"? 
Shall  mind  fear  death  that  knows  within  itself 
All  life  and  all  begetting  and  all  end? 

[There  is  a  sound  of  thunder  and  the  rain 
beats  heavily  at  door  and  window.  Faus- 
tus  goes  to  the  hearth.  The  candles  have 
guttered  down  and  are  now  dead.  The 
students  lean  over  the  table  watching  him. 
Suddenly  he  stands  erect,  flinging  a  hand 
ful  of  ashes  on  the  fire.  The  flames  sink, 
then  rise  in  a  great  flare.  Helen  of  Troy 
stands  on  the  hearth.  She  is  naked  and 


1 6  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

her  limbs  shine  like  silver  in  the  light. 
Her  hands  are  at  her  breast.  Faustus 
steps  back.] 

Matthiolus 
'Tis  thou !    Forgive  me ! 

Christopher 

O  the  wonderful 
Sad  eyes,  the  lips  like  prayer ! 

Fritz 

Her  beauty  seems 

As  all  the  tides  of  ocean  ebbing  down 
Out  of  the  heart  to  her. 

Faustus 

Oh  blind!  blind!  blind! 
Ye  eagerly  deceived !    Ye  gladly  tricked 
To  dull  believing !    Fools !    And  I  have  sold 
My  flesh  and  old  rebellious  hope  of  Heaven 
To  doubt  what  you  run  panting  to  believe. 
I  have  forsworn  all  peace  to  keep  aflame 
The  will  you  quench  in  faith — the  will  to  try 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY  17 

All  life  and  living  in  the  Alkahest 
Of  thought,  to  set  the  single  mind  above 
All  seeming,  all  appearances,  to  match 
With  sense  all  emptiness,  to  crumble  faith 
Into  its  ignorance.     This  blowing  smoke, 
This  shadow  of  an  age-long  vanished  girl — 
Ye  gape  and  watch  the  fuming  vapor  twist 
And  call  it  miracle.     But  to  the  mind 
'  That  knows  how  light  and  shadow  form  and 

solve 

Into  each  other  'tis  a  petty  trick 
Of  eye  on  brain,  a  mimicry  of  life 
As  senseless  as  the  many-seeming  clouds. 
Ye  blind  who  live  in  darkness  and  believe ! 
I   wrought   the   maid  to  mock  you.     Now 

almost 

I  weep  that  you  have  suffered  such  content 
When  such  great  light  illumines.     Mind  has 

torn 

The  veil  that  hangs  before  the  Riddler's  lip, 
Has  found  the  riddle  answered, — time  and 

space 

And  life  and  very  dying  has  the  brain 
Ground   to   their   atoms   and   their   ancient 

laws; 
And  soul,  and  mystery,  and  stuff  of  dream 


1 8  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Are  rainbow-winking  bubbles  in  the  bowl 
That  vanish  and  are  nothing.    Lo,  this  ghost 
That  makes  a  mock  of  them !    This  thing  of 

air, 
Smoke-wrought  and  smoke-enduring!     Such 

as  she, 

Appearances  and  shadows,  are  all  things 
That  flesh  may  not  acknowledge, — yet  the 

mind 
Has  conquered  even  these,  has  found  them 

vain, 
A  nothingness,  an  emptiness,  a  smoke. 

[A  great  gust  of  wind  shakes  the  house.] 


Faustus  [turning  toward  the  door] 

I  fear  you  not;  I've  held  the  globing  world 
Of  wisdom  in  my  hand.    There  is  no  space 
Of  all  the  universe  I  have  not  won; 
No  door  is  closed — shall  I  then  grudge  the 

coin 

That  pays  for  this,  or  hoard  the  penny  when 
The  ribbon's  bought?     It's  worth  the  taste 

of  death 
To  know  that  death  is  silence,  and  the  dust 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY  19 

Is  all  and  end  of  our  eternity. 
Nay,  death  has  had  no  hostages  of  me; 
I  hope  no  morning  from  him  and  I  fear 
His  darkness  nothing.     It  is  time.     I  wait. 

[The  storm  drops  suddenly.  In  the  hush 
the  fire  grows  brighter,  and  the  figure  of 
Helen  suddenly  becomes  a  glow  of  light.] 


Fritz 

Look!      Lo!      She   moves — her  hands   are 
raised — she  speaks. 

Helen 

Yea,  I  am  she  whom  men  call  Helen,  maid 
Of  Troy.    Long  years  the  beauty  Paris  loved 
Has  been  a  stir  of  corn-flowers  by  that  sea 
Where  memory  is  a  tide  and  summers  fade 
Into  the  past  like  shadows. 

Faustus 

'Tis  a  trick! 

A  dream !    A  phantasy !    The  dead  are  dead. 
These  are  no  words !    A  shadow — 


20  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Helen 

I  am  she 
Whose  flesh  is  dust,  whose  flesh  can  never 

die; 

Helen  I  am,  and  yet  not  Helen,  I; 
The  maid  that  was,  the  proud  bewildered  girl 
A  world  made  battle  for, — she  only  sought 
Long  silence,  long  forgetfulness  of  wars, 
And  burning  moon-fire,  and  the  nightingales. 
But  even  dead  ye  troubled  me,  ye  brought 
The  wide  flare  of  your  searching  through  the 

stars 

To  harry  me,  my  name  was  driven  leaf 
In  winds  of  your  great  longing,  I  became 
All  songs  that  all  men  sang  me,   all  faint 

dreams 

That  sought  back  into  time  for  me,  all  grief 
Of  hearts  but  half-forgetting, — I  am  these. 
I  am  the  pain  of  young  men  memorous 
Of  beauty  that  they  never  knew,  and  loss 
They  never  suffered.     I  am  love  that  flames 
Sometimes   at  twilight  when   forlorn   sweet 

names 

Of  beautiful  dead  women  make  a  tune 
Like  lost  Sirenicas.    I  am  the  fire 
Your  passion  builded,  shadow  of  your  hearts, 


OUR  LADY  OF  TROY  21 

A  fallen  leaf  of  dusk  the  riding  moon 
Of  your  adoring  shakes  upon  the  grass. 
Lo  1     I  am  she  ye  seek  in  every  maid 
Ye  love  and  leave  again.    I  am  desire 
Of  woman  that  no  man  may  slake  in  woman. 
This   thing   am   I, — a   rose   the   world  has 
dreamed. 

[She  vanishes.] 

[There  is  a  long  silence.  Far  off  the  storm 
moans  again.  In  the  darkness  comes  the 
voice  of  Faustus.] 

Faustus 

'A  rose  the  world  has  dreamed' ; — and  I,  I 

stood 
Peak-high  in  those  grey  mountains  of  my 

mind 

And  saw  all  truth,  all  science,  all  the  laws 
Spread  out  beneath  my  feet.    I  sold  all  things 
To  know  that  all  I  knew  was  all  the  world 
Of  knowledge;  and  I  bought — why,  nothing 

then, — 

Or  only  this  at  last — a  space  to  know 
That    out    beyond    my    farthest    reach    of 

thought 
All  knowledge  seines — a  radiance  of  stars. 


22  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

ECHO 

When  in  the  winter  of  heart's  desire 
Sirens  are  dead,  and  the  songs  of  fey 
Jangled  and  flat  on  a  musty  lyre, 
What  shall  we  call  to-day? 

Miracle  wrought  from  a  laugh,  a  kiss, 
Mystery,  wonder  and  breath  of  May, — 
How  shall  our  hearts  remember  this 
When  it  is  yesterday? 

GRIEF 

Hadst  thou  been  queen  in  Babylon, 
My  queen  who  lies  so  still, 
A  proud  tumultuous  pyre  had  shone 
Upon  thy  burial  hill. 

And  gold  and  pearl  and  amethyst, 
Thy  crown,  thy  gilded  lyre, 
Thy  very  slaves  had  kept  thee  tryst 
In  that  high  flaming  fire. 


LYRICS  23 


And  there  had  flung  an  ancient  dirge 
Against  the  burnished  sky, 
Like  ocean  threnodies  that  surge 
And  swell  and  swooning  die. 

But  Love  has  crucified  Death's  fears, 
The  grave  has  set  thee  free, 
And  all  the  sweetness  of  slow  tears 
Is  turned  to  mockery. 

O  white  Lord  Christ,  Thy  love's  caress, 
Thy  prophecy  that  saith 
These  dead  shall  wake  from  weariness, 
Shames  all  who  mourn  for  death; 

And  faith  in  immortality, 
Affrighted  blind  belief 
That  troubles  death's  reality, 
Has  crushed  dim  fragrant  grief. 

Nay,  I  were  mad  to  weep  for  thee, — 

But  oh  thy  silken  hair! 

And  oh  the  twilight  memory, 

The  darkening  despair! 


24  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

See  then,  it  is  not  thee  I  weep, 
It  is  not  thou  art  dead. 
Thy  lidded  eyes  are  but  asleep, 
And  weary  thy  dear  head; 

I  weep  the  silver  dreams  we  wrought, 
Long  years,  long  years  ago; 
I  weep  the  sun-drowsed  days  that  caught 
Our  dreams  in  their  sweet  flow. 


AN  ETERNITY 

There  is  no  dusk  to  be, 

There  is  no  dawn  that  was, 
Only  there's  now,  and  now, 

And  the  wind  in  the  grass. 

Days  I  remember  of 

Now  in  my  heart,  are  now; 
Days  that  I  dream  will  bloom 

White  the  peach  bough. 

Dying  shall  never  be 

Now  in  the  windy  grass; 

Now  under  shooken  leaves 
Death  never  was. 


LYRICS 


ESCAPE 

Ships  that  down  the  long  seas  blow, 
Gulls  that  slope  the  winter  stars, 
Ye  that  earth's  wide  highways  know, 
Gleam  of  white  wings,  gloom  of  spars, 

Ye  that  follow  shattered  suns, 
Ye  that  seek  the  smouldering  day, 
Lead  me  where  the  long  road  runs, 
Lead  me  your  desired  way. 

Through  the  intricate  dim  mind 
Seek  I  after  splendid  things, 
Never  hearing  where,  behind 
Pulse  of  brain,  the  high  soul  sings. 

Toward  the  mirror  of  myself, 
Down  the  ways  my  own  feet  trace, 
Seek  I  the  eternal  God, 
Find  I  there — the  seeker's  face. 


Teach  me  utterly  to  leave 
This  blind  dream  within  a  dream, 
Where  the  mole-like  senses  weave 
Out  of  their  deep  night  a  gleam; 


26  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Lead  me  where  the  bitter  sea 
Stings  unseeing  eyes  with  sight, 
Mocks  the  heart's  uncertainty 
With  itself,  stern  infinite, 

Numbs  the  brain  that  comprehends 
Neither  end  nor  endlessness, — 
Save  the  solemn  flesh  that  tends 
Solemnly  its  vineyard  press; 

Where  the  present  hand  of  God 
Gleams  across  the  tempest,  where 
Naked  I  may  feel  His  rod, 
Pray,  unfettered  then  with  prayer. 

Ye  that  follow  shattered  suns, 
Ye  that  seek  the  ash  of  days, 
Lead  me  where  the  long  road  runs, 
Lead  me  your  desired  ways. 


LYRICS  27 


THE  CIRCLE 

Beauty  like  storms  driven 

Where  my  soul  is  caught, 
Peace  like  sorrow  shriven 

Where  my  peace  is  wrought, 
Still  I  know  thee  riven 

Chained  in  me,  low-brought, 
Wind  that  shakes  my  heaven, 

Rhythm  of  my  thought. 


MY  BODY  AND  I 

My  body  and  I,  we  rested 
Under  a  thorn  one  noon, 
We  talked  of  days  long  wested 
And  nights  in  the  moon. 

CSC?? 

My  body  lay  in  shadow, 

Face  in  the  grass,  and  said, 

"What  thorn  in  what  deep  meadow 

Will  blow  when  I'm  dead? 

And  how  will  you  taste  blueberries 

Bobbing  in  stolen  milk, 

Or  hear  Baron  Thrush  to  the  cherries, 

Or  touch  spider  silk? 


28  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

How,  when  no  flesh  makes  you  weary, 
How  will  you  find  your  rest, 
Heels  to  the  logs  and  brown  sherry, 
When  body  is  dust? 

There'll  be  no  sleep  nor  forgetting, 

For  I  was  lid  to  your  eyes, 

I  was  dusk  and  sunsetting, 

I  the  moonrise. 

There'll  be  no  lying  in  flowers 

Adoring  the  white  moon's  face, 

For  I  was  time  and  the  hours, 

Distance  and  space. 

Spirit  you,  I  was  earthen, 

But  color  and  fragrance  are 

A  dust  and  a  faint  wind's  burthen, 

And  dust  is  the  star. 

You  are  the  sun  unshaded — 

But  I  was  mist  on  the  dawn, 

Half-lights,  shadows  that  faded, 

Glooms  that  were  gone. 

Where  then,  where  will  you  wander 
When  body's  crumbled  and  dead?" 
I'll  lie  long  summers  under 
And  dream  you  again,  I  said. 


LYRICS  29 


THE  BUGLES  PASS 

Who's  for  the  war ! 

Who  more 
Makes  end  of  doubting! 

Who'll  wake 
Now  trumpets  shake 
The  earth  with  shouting! 

I  know 

Where  dips  a  way 
Has  merry  ending; 

There  go 

The  young  and  gay 
That  sing  descending. 

I  know 

Where  climbs  a  road 
Into  to-morrow; 

There  go 
The  seed  of  God 
Toward  the  furrow; 


30  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

I  know 

Where  shines  the  sun 
On  windy  spaces, 

Where  low 
The  shadows  run, 
The  swallow  races; 


But  Oh! 

When  youth  is  gone 
The  glory  passes. 


"TO  LUCASTA,  ON  GOING  TO 
THE  WARS" 

Now  has  all  time  culminated 
In  this  pulse  of  dizzy  blood; 
Now  eternity  is  mated 
In  this  swift  suspended  flood 
Of  the  sense  that  sings,  Forever 
Does  this  perfect  Now  abide, 
And  the  brain  that  echoes,  Never, 
Never,  never  turns  again  this  tide. 


LYRICS  3 1 

Oh,  the  desperate  dumb  clinging 
Of  the  unbelieving  hands ! 
Oh,  the  nerves  grown  dull  with  flinging 
Up  the  mind's  o'er-written  sands 
All  the  fleetingness  of  wonder, 
All  the  moment's  cresting  foam, 
That  withdrawing  leaves  thereunder 
Vanishing,  dim  legends  where  it  clomb. 

Unforgotten,  unremembered 
Shall  thy  beauty  haunt  the  brain 
Like  old  magic  cities  embered 
Where  the  golden  sunsets  wane; — 

Ah,  my  love  let  be  to-morrow ! 
All  to-morrow  is  is  now, 
All  we'd  lose  and  all  we'd  borrow; — 
Laugh,  and  prove  all  time  more  brief  than 
thou. 


32  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


THE  EASTER  OF  SWORDS 

(April  8,  1917) 

Now  out  of  this  corruption  has  been  born 
This  incorruption.    Out  of  this  decay, 
This  passionless,  sick  serving  of  the  day, 
This  staleness — from  this  seed,  this  rotten 

corn 
Of  shame  and  doubt,  has  sprung  this  flowered 

thorn, 
This  burgeoned  pain,  this  fire.    We  that  were 

clay 

Have  lifted  up  our  eyes, — and  lo !  the  spray 
Of  bright  swords  and  the  challenging  high 

horn! 

So  Christ  is  risen,  so  the  wakened  soul 
Has  lifted  back  the  heavy  stone  and  stands 
Aflame  with  morning;  what  then  if  it  be 
Death,  not  the  lily,  shining  in  his  hands? 
Already,  ere  the  first  reveilles  roll, 
Our  death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory. 


SONNETS  33 


SONNET 

(The  Parting  of  the  Ways) 

We  had  each  other's  youth;  the  halcyon 
At  wrist,  Hymettos  but  a  sunny  sail 
Beyond  each  morning's  morrow,  and  the  gale 
Set  westward.    Oh,  we  had  the  towering  sun, 
The  lift  of  the  year,  flood  tide, — all  things 

begun, 

None  ended,  none  attained;  even  to  fail 
Was  tart  grape  under  tongue,  and  life  a  tale 
That  should  have  pause  for  reveries  anon. 

We  had  each  other's  youth;  why  then  what's 

lost 

If  we  who  one  time,  'top  of  happy  hours, 
Found  each  the  other  and  himself  found  most, 
Finding  how  self  in   all   selves   blows   and 

flowers — 

If  we  who  were  one  seeking  and  one  ghost, 
Losing  each  other,  find  what  loss  is  ours? 


34  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


MORITURI 

Not  as  Ulysses,  overwise  with  age, 
Shall  we  sail  out  beyond  the  westward  gate 
Into  the  unknown  seas.    Not  destinate, 
And  weary  of  man's  seeking,  and  the  mage 
Of  subtle-changing  earth  and  that  vast  sky 
Where  wonder  walks,  shall  we  sail  curious 
To  do  the  last  adventure.    Oh,  not  thus, 
Not  satisfied  with  living,  shall  we  die. 

But  we  shall  meet  death  running,  with  our 

lips 
Still  glad  of  the  morning;  and  with  widening 

eyes 

Still  thirsty  for  the  light,  we  shall  surprise 
The  secret  under  that  old  hooded  Fear, 
And  touch  that  face  with  eager  finger-tips, 
And  find  but  Change,  who  crowns  with  youth 

the  year. 


SONNETS  35 


THE  COST  OF  WAR 

Oh,  not  the  loss  of  the  accomplished  thing! 
Not  dumb  farewells,  nor  long  relinquishment 
Of  beauty  had,  and  golden  summer  spent, 
And  savage  glory  of  the  fluttering 
Torn  banners  of  the  rain,  and  frosty  ring 
Of  moon-white  winters,  and  the  imminent 
Long-lunging   seas,    and   glowing   shoulders 

bent 
To  race  on  some  smooth  beach  the  sea-gull's 

wing: 

Not  these,  nor  all  we've  been,  nor  all  we've 

loved, 

The  pitiful  familiar  names,  had  moved 
Our  hearts  to  weep  for  them ;  but  oh,  the  star 
The  future  is!     Eternity's  too  wan 
To  give  again  that  undefeated,  far, 
All-possible  irradiance  of  dawn. 


36  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


THE  SHOWMAN 

(A  Portrait) 

A  golden  wind  came  running  down  the  grass 
And  in  and  out  the  sun  and  shadow  went 
The  stir  of  blowing  dresses  and  the  tint 
Of  scarf  and  leaf  and  laughter — ay,  it  was 
The  scene  for  her;  she  sat,  self-mimicking, 
The  center  of  her  central-whirling  world, 
And  tuned  her  mood  to  mockery,  and  skirled 
A  showman's  lilting  flourish  on  the  string. 

Her   words   were    swift   as    swallows    in    a 

gale — 
Darted  and  flashed  and  poised,  and  then  in 

flight 
Essayed  the  Heavens,  and  then  were  vanished 

quite 

In  some  perplexing  Orcus — ran  the  scale 
Of    mirth    from    platypod    to    the    eternal 

sprite — 
But  never  left  the  wares  she  had  for  sale. 


SONNETS  37 


AN  ANTIQUE  SHOP 

Her  chair  now,   see   how   curious   the  line 
Of  dragons  down  the  old  mahogany 
And  that  daguerreotype — you  almost  see 
How  red  her  cheeks  and  how  her  earrings 

shine. 

And  that's  her  lustre  crock  for  cherry  wine, 
And  that — ah,  that  frail  web  of  filigree — 
Grandmother's     wedding     night-cap,     worn 

when  she 
First  slept  in  that  old  bed  you  thought  so  fine. 

Ah,  little  bride,  when  you  and  I  are  fled 
Beyond  the  farthest  echo  of  to-day, 
And  all  our  hearts  immortalized  is  dead, 
And  all  our  love  dreamed  amaranth  is  grey — 
Think  you  a  broken  net  of  silver  thread 
Could  mark  the  world  how  joyous  was  life's 
May? 


38  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


THE  SILENCE 

A  song  between  two  silences  Life  sings, 
A  melody  'twixt  night  and  patient  night. 
He  strums  his  lute  against  the  fading  light 
To  gild  the  shadow  that  the  gloaming  brings, 
And  Love  is  but  a  plucking  of  the  strings, 
A  throb  of  music  staying  music's  flight, 
A  little  note  that  hardly  shall  requite 
Thine   outstretched   hand   that  mars   Life's 
lute-playings. 

Yet,  when  the  last  faint  echo  of  that  note 
Has  stirred  the  cypress-leaves  at  eventide, 
When  night  has  stilled  forever  Life's  white 

throat, 

And  his  gold  lute  lies  shattered  by  his  side, 
We  two  shall  follow  through  a  world  remote 
The  silence  whereinto  Love's  music  died. 


SONNETS  39 


MARIA  MEA 

What  more  was  She,  whom  men  these  thou 
sand  years 

Have  loved  and  sung  and  reverenced  and 
prayed, 

Than  thou  to  me,  deep-hearted  little  maid? 

She  cradled  Godhead  in  Her  arms,  Her  tears 

Were  for  a  visioned  cross,  a  nation's  jeers; 

Her  joy,  the  helpless  hands  of  God  that 
strayed 

About  Her  throat,  the  lullaby  She  played 

An  angel's  song,  a  music  of  the  spheres. 

But  thou  with  patient  faith  in  things  unseen, 

Reliance  on  the  beautiful,  blind  trust 

In  love's  eternity  of  life,  dost  screen 

My  heart  from  my  own  heart's  most  bitter 

thrust, 
Making    my    love,    late    stained    with    this 

world's  dust, 
Thy  happiness,  thy  glory,  and  thy  teen. 


4O  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


IMAGERY 

The  tremulously  mirrored  clouds  lie  deep, 
Enchanted  towers  bosomed  in  the  stream, 
And  blossomed  coronals  of  white-thorn 

gleam 

Within  the  water  where  the  willows  sleep — 
Still-imaged    willow-leaves    whose    shadows 

steep 

The  far-reflected  sky  in  dark  of  dream; 
And     glimpsed     therein      the      sun-winged 

swallows  seem 
As  fleeting  memories  to  those  who  weep. 

So  mirrored  in  thy  heart  are  all  desires, 

Eternal  longings,  Youth's  inheritance, 

All  hopes  that  token  immortality, 

All  griefs  whereto  immortal  grief  aspires. 

Aweary  of  a  world's  reality, 

I  dream  above  the  imaged  pool,  Romance. 


SONNETS  41 


IMMORTALITY 

I 

As  it  hath  been,  it  shall  be  evermore. 
The  shadow  of  the  dawning  future  creeps 
Across  the  drowsy  dial-face,  and  sweeps 
The  graven  numbers  marked  and  told  before 
By  old  forgotten  hours.     So  ever  o'er 
The  paths  of  yesterday  to-morrow  keeps 
A  slow  insistent  course,  and  evening  reaps 
Eternity  on  every  sunset  shore. 

From  slumber  into  slumber  all  things  go; 
Our  yesterday  is  dawned  from  infinite 
Oblivion;  to-morrow's  fading  light 
Shall  darken  to  that  misted  morn,  and  lo ! 
No  terror  clothes  the  oblivion  we  know. 
Breathe  deep  the  gloaming  of  death's  second 
night. 


42  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


IMMORTALITY 

II 

Since  Golgotha  the  learned  doctors  prate 

Of  peace  and  easeful  immortality, 

As  if  strange  fruit  of  that  accursed  tree 

Had  bloomed  and  withered  but  to  dissipate 

Old  fears,  and  that  a  glutton  world  might  sate 

Eternal  longings  with  eternity — 

A  world  content  the  cross  of  Christ  should  be 

Its  suffering  and  death  impersonate. 

Ah,  Lord,  wouldst  Thou  we  let  Thy  blood 

redeem, 

Thy  torture  comfort,  and  Thy  sorrow  save? 
Or,  restless,  labor  with  the  soul  God  gave, 
Aspire  and  suffer,  follow  beauty's  gleam, 
Endure  the  barren  agony  of  dream, 
And  win  brief  life — not  freedom  from  the 

grave? 


SONNETS  43 


IMMORTALITY 

III 

Nay,  I  have  lived  before,  and  otherwhere 
Have   lolled   against   the    breast   of   God's 

Unseen, 

And  watched  Infinities  of  Things  careen 
With  shouted  laughter  down  the  startled  air, 
And  caught  the  Truth  by  his  entangled  hair, 
And  plucked  at  Beauty's  burnished  wing  to 

preen 

A  broken  feather  from  its  golden  sheen, 
And  smiled  with  Love,  slow  walking,  white 

in  vair. 

How  else — when  you  come  running  to  sur 
prise 

My  heart  with  sudden  arms  about  my  throat, 
And  laugh  with  such  a  wishful  little  note — 
How  else  am  I,  Love's  acolyte,  so  wise 
To  know  that  dreams  and  passion  turned 

devote, 

And  joy  grown   sad,   are   Love  with  wide 
girl's  eyes? 


44  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


THE  ALTAR 

/  /  /i 

I  built (an  unnamed  altar  in  my  heart, 

And  sculptured  sacred  garlands  for  a  frieze 
From  delicately  petalled  memories, — 
The  fragrance  of  a  word,  the  fragile  art 
Of  ash-gold  hair,  dim  visioned  things  that 

start 

With  radiant  wings  from  mist  of  reveries, 
And  vanish  at  the  telling  as  a  breeze 
Blurs  mirrored  stars  in  dark  pools  set  apart. 

But,  as  I  worshipped  reverently  there 
The  symbols  of  the  beautiful,  there  came 
A  light  aslant  the  shadows  of  my  prayer 
That  silenced  mine  uplifted  lips  with  shame. 
The  garlands  coldly  carven  in  that  fair 
Unmeaning  tracery  enscrolled — thy  name. 


SONNETS  45 


DUSK 

Think  not  I  may  not  know  thee  kneeling 

there, 

For  all  I  lie  so  silently  in  death ; 
Ay,  ever  as  the  candle  flickereth, 
I  watch  the  light  weave  shadow  in  thy  hair, 
I  see  thy  white  hands  eloquent  in  prayer, 
I  hear  the  agony  of  sobbing  breath; 
And  words  of  faith  thy  sorrow  whispereth 
Upon  thy  lips  are  echoes  of  despair. 

I  hear — and  wonder  how  one  time  we  played 
At  this;  called  Death's  reflection  to  Love's 

glass, 

And  blurred  the  image  with  a  laugh,  afraid. 
Now  Death  is  come  and  gone,  the  solemn 

mass 

Low  sung,  the  mirror  shattered;  fancies  pass, 
And  heart  in  heart  we  weep  Love's  body  laid. 


46  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


A  LIBRARY  OF  LAW 

Adjudicated  quarrels  of  mankind, 

Brown  row  on  row ! — how  well  these  lawyers 

bind 

Their  records  of  dead  sin, — as  if  they  feared 
The  hate  might  spill  and  their  long  shelves  be 

smeared 
With  slime  of  human  souls, — brown  row  on 

row 

Span  on  Philistine  span,  a  greasy  show 
Of  lust  and  lies  and  cruelty,  dried  grime 
Streaked  from  the  finger  of  the  beggar,  Time. 

I  wonder  if  the  little  letters  there, 
Black-stamped  and  damned  eternally  to  bear 
The  records  of  old  sin,  must  never  long 
For  that  fair  printed  world  of  ancient  song, 
Where,    line   on   martial   line,    they   stretch 

across 

The  vellum's  edge  to  some  irradiant  boss 
Of  scarlet  lettering,  where  sits  a  quaint 
Gilt-featured  and  attenuated  saint, 


LYRICS  47 

That  world  where  they  grow  volatile  and 

fling 

A  spray  of  golden  butterflies  a-wing 
Up  through  the  blue  infinities  of  dream 
To    brush    God's    feet,    and    flutter,    wings 

a-gleam, 

About  the  veinless  marble  of  His  chair, 
And  make  a  sudden  splendor  through  His 

hair; 

That  world  where  they  drift  ghostly  down 

the  dusk 

Of  old  forgotten  twilights,  toss  the  musk 
Of  primroses  against  his  face  who  reads, 
Make  prayers  from  the  clicking  of  old  beads, 
Blow  long  dead  summers  through  the  naked 

trees 

Leaf  after  leaf,  call  back  faint  memories 
Of  lips  that  once  were  sweet,  and  eyes  once 

glad, 

And  little  hands  that  set  the  spirit  mad 
With  plucking  bf  invisible  lute  strings, — 
All,  all  the  vanished  magic  of  dead  things. 


48  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


A  SAMPLER 

She  stitches  quaint  embroideries 

My  lady  of  white  hands, 
With  fishes  from  the  China  seas 

And  beasts  from  foreign  lands. 

And  flowers  out  of  Araby 

And  sage  Saharan  ants, 
And  cockatoos  from  Nickerie 

And  wrinkled  elephants, 

And  ships  with  swelling  purple  sails 
And  cargoes  pavonine,     \ 

And  whalermen  and  spouting  whales, 
And  porpoises  in  line. 

And  cows  of  rich  autumnal  hues 
A-browse  in  flowered  meads, 

And  shepherd  dogs  in  buffs  and  blues 
And  shepherd  boys  in  tweeds. 

She  weaves  them  all  into  a  net, 

And,  silk  for  Circe's  wine, 
Enchants  them  there  with  mignonette 

In  intricate  design. 


LYRICS  49 

And  thence  methinks  she  has  that  art 

Whereby  her  fingers  twist 
Into  the  dull  web  of  my  heart 

Silver  and  amethyst. 


BALLADE 

"A  pilgrim  cowled  in  light  is  love, 
Who  kneels  at  many  shrines  and  prays." 
So  sang  I  knowing  naught  thereof. 
"He  kneels  beside  the  thronging  ways 
And  ever  in  the  dust  he  lays 
His  reverent  soul  at  Mary's  feet 
Beneath  her  all-caressing  gaze. 
For  only  dreams  of  love  are  sweet." 

"And  lo,  a  pagan  god  is  love, 

His  shining  head  bound  round  with  bays." 

So  sang  I  knowing  nought  thereof. 

"He  breathes  the  breath  of  burning  Mays 

Plucking  from  Autumn's  lap  of  days 

Gold  fruits  of  life  to  crush  and  eat, 

Yet  lustful  are  his  lips  always, 

For  only  dreams  of  love  are  sweet." 


50  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

But  last  I  learned  the  truth  of  love, 
That  carnal  love  the  world  obeys. 
'Tis  but  a  web  which  Gaea  wove 
With  warp  of  pain  and  weft  of  days, 
Where  vast,  insensate,  o'er  the  haze 
Of  mortal  dreams  she  has  her  seat, — 
A  web  to  catch  whom  soon  she  slays. 
For  only  dreams  of  love  are  sweet. 

ENVOY 

How  fairer  than  the  garnered  maize 
The  shadows  in  the  windy  wheat, 
And  throstle  notes  than  roundelays. 
For  only  dreams  of  love  are  sweet. 


THE  'CHANTRESS 

Lo,  the  lady  Margaret! 
Cunningly  her  fingers  fret 

Witcheries  in  clay. 
She  is  Circe,  sorceress 
Mulberries  make  red  her  press, 
Moon-ripe  poppy  blooms  confess 

Her  way. 


LYRICS 


Lo,  the  lady  Margaret 
Spreadeth  beauty  for  a  net, 

Springeth  souls  thereby, 
Springeth  souls  to  light  her  clay, 
This  for  laughter,  this  to  pray, 
This  to  dance  the  Spring  away, 

And  die. 

Lo,  the  lady  Margaret! 
Her  dark  hair  is  springes  set, 

Her  two  hands  a  spell. 
Whom  she  tangleth,  him  they  bind, 
Ariel  in  oak-tree  rind, 
In  the  dark  clay,  dumb  and  blind, 

To  dwell! 

Lo,  the  lady  Margaret! 
All  her  dryad  folk  forget, 

Bubbles  in  the  bowl — 
April  and  the  running  seas, 
Stars  and  rainbows,  what  are  these  ?- 
So  her  clay  have  foam  and  lees 

Of  soul. 


52  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


A  SONG  FOR  THE  HARP 

Iseult,  Iseult  of  Ireland, 
The  years  are  born  again, 

Again  Tintagel's  towers  stand, 
And  blows  the  corn  again, 
The  russet  corn  again. 

Again,  again  the  shoreward  waves 
Make  wondrous  undertone, 

That  whispers  down  the  forest  naves 
When  melody  is  flown, 
When  twilight  birds  are  flown. 

Iseult,  Iseult,  remember  thou 
How  soft  the  music  swept — 

Nay  till  the  lily  moon  arow 

I'll  dream  that  time  has  slept, 
All  flower-like  has  slept. 

So  softly  was  the  harping  wrought 
As  in  the  web  of  sound 

The  wings  of  melody  were  caught, 
And  fluttering  music  bound, 
And  moth-winged  music  bound. 


LYRICS  53 


Iseult,  Iseult,  when  night  is  drawn 

I'll  cross  the  Irish  sea, 
And  in  the  moon's  white  fragrant  dawn 

Steal  down  the  dusk  to  thee, 

Across  the  years  to  thee. 


Iseult,  my  queen,  all  loves  that  were 
Born  on  a  kiss  and  killed, 

Resurgent  with  the  surging  year, 
Are  in  the  heart  fulfilled, 
The  secret  heart  fulfilled. 

Forget?    Nay  thou  can'st  not  forget 
Nor  peaceful  close  thine  eyes. 

Upon  thy  rose  the  thorn  regret 
Shall  scar  with  memories, 
Scar  peace  with  memories. 


54  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


CERTAIN  POETS 

Oh,  words  and  words  and  words, — a  twitter 
ing  blur 

Of  sparrow  wings  that  puff  up  from  the  rye 
When  something  hidden  stirs  there;  up  they 

fly 

A  wheeling,  huddled,  undecided  whir, 
And  what  it  was  aroused  them,  Pan  or  cur, 
Appears  not, — save  that  'twas  a  prodigy, 
A  portent  sure,  and,  with  its  passing  by, 
A  new  world  dawned,  and  grubs  and  rye- 
fields  were. 

And  so  their  verses  go, — a  clamorous  puff 
Of  words  unformed,  unbeautiful,  distraught, 
That  eddy  in  the  mood  like  feathered  stuff, 
And  underneath  the  sound  of  them  a  thought, 
Of  something  hidden  stirring, — like  enough 
Apocalypse  or  naughtiness — or  naught. 

A  portent  then!  a  dumb  and  groping  urge 
Of  something  blind  like  voices  in  a  mist; 
'Lord,  but  it  'wilders  one !    To  feel  it  twist 
Old  earth  with  iron,  mutter  in  the  forge, 


LYRICS  55 

Threaten  in  smoke; — why,  look  you,  we're 
a-verge 

Of  worlds  undreamt,  and  every  silly  fist 

That  curses  God's  a  sign!  There's  won 
drous  grist 

A-grinding,  wondrous  new-sown  corn 
a-surge.' 

New  worlds !    These  things  were  seedling  in 

dead  Cain. 

But  you,  for  you  old  magics  yet  remain 
Of  restless  whispering  winds  that  press  along 
Dim    casements    of    the    sense-enshuttered 

brain. 
Beauty  has  called  you,  and  the  worlds  that 

wane 
From  crescent  into  crescent  of  thin  song. 


56  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


A  SONG 

Youth  is  old  before  his  time, 

Helas!     Heighho! 

Watcheth  where  the  white  stars  climb, 
Readeth  windy  wheat  to  rhyme, 
Danceth  to  no  tune,  no  chime, 

Heighho ! 

Youth  is  drear  before  his  days, 

Helas!     Heighho! 
Weepeth  where  the  cypress  sways, 
Chanteth  Grief  a  doleful  praise, 
Danceth  to  no  roundelays, 

Heighho ! 

Youth  is  done  with  lovely  Life, 

Helas !     Heighho ! 
Putteth  Lady  Hope  to  knife, 
Taketh  Mistress  Worm  to  wife, 
Hath  no  joyous  Hippogrife, 

Helas! 
Danceth  to  no  merry  fife, 

Heighho ! 


LYRICS  57 


LILIES 

Lily,  red  wood  lily, 
Flaunting  fairy  lily, 
Lily  springing  where  the  heel 
Was  down-impressed  of  Pan; 
Lily  at  whose  throat  the  moon 
Flutters  like  a  moth  a-swoon — 
Round  and  round  thy  shining  reel 
Deft-foot  things  of  Pan. 

Lily,  Pan's  red  lily, 

Sunlight-drunken  lily, 

Golden,  golden  lily  tipped 

With  dawn's  drowned  fire ; 

Lily,  burning  lily, 

Mad  and  mad  and  shrilly 

Trip  the  hooves  where  Pan  has  tripped, 

Gleam  the  flanks  mad  Pan  has  nipped, 

Gyre,  gyre,  gyre, 

Mad  and  mad  and  shrilly, 

Pipes  go  never  stilly, 

Hooves  make  eager  rhythm  where 

The  song  is  thee, 


58  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

Shrilly,  shrilly,  shrilly, 
Flare  and  flute  note  trilly, 
Hearken,  hearken,  hearken  there, 
Shadows  dance  and  darken  there, 
Hand  and  hoof  and  haunches  bare 
Encircle  thee. 

O  lily,  red  wood  lily, 
Flaunting  fairy  lily, 

Never   stop    the   piping   of   the    Pan   god's 

tune : — 

"Life's  a  music  hath  no  word, 
Death's  a  lute  no  hand  has  stirred, 

Eternity's  a  rondeau  in  an  old,  old  rune." 
Never  stop  their  piping  there, 
Never  yield  them — never  spare, 
Lest  thou  dream  Christ's  lily  fair — 
More  fair  than  thou. 


LYRICS  59 


CHARITY 

Since  my  Beloved  chambered  me 

To  beat  within  her  breast, 
And  took  my  soul  to  light  a  shrine 

Her  soul  had  decked  and  dressed, 
And  caught  my  songs  about  her  throat, — 

Dissected,  known,  confessed, 
I  dwell  within  her  charity 

A  half-unwelcome  guest. 


TO  MY  SON 

You  are  her  laughter 

Blown  to  a  rose, 
Singing  heard  after 

The  song's  at  the  close. 

You  are  the  sorrow 
Was  dusk  in  her  eyes, 

You  are  the  morrow 
Is  night  where  she  lies. 


60  TOWER  OF  IVORY 


SOUL-SIGHT 

Like    moon-dark,    like    brown    water    you 

escape, 

O  laughing  mouth,  O  sweet  uplifted  lips. 
Within  the  peering  brain  old   ghosts   take 

shape; 
You   flame  and  wither   as  the  white   foam 

slips 
Back  from  the  broken  wave:  sometimes  a 

start, 

A  gesture  of  the  hands,  a  way  you  own 
Of  bending  that  smooth  head  above  your 

heart, — 
Then  these  are  vanished,  then  the  dream  is 

gone. 

Oh,  you  are  too  much  mine  and  flesh  of  me 
To  seal  upon  the  brain,  who  in  the  blood 
Are  so  intense  a  pulse,  so  swift  a  flood 
Of  beauty,  such  unceasing  instancy. 
Dear  unimagined  brow,  unvisioned  face, 
All  beauty  has  become  your  dwelling  place. 


LYRICS  6 1 


JASON 

I  lay  where  stain  of  poppies  crept 

Across  a  summer  hill, 
And  drowsy  droning  grasses  slept 
With  heavy  heads,  and  wild  bees  kept 

Their  slumbrous  music  still. 

I  lay  and  let  my  lazy  dreams 

Drift  with  the  idle  breeze 
Like  leaves  that  float  on  autumn  streams, 
Gilded  as  fairy  quinqueremes, 

Down  to  their  magic  seas. 

I  dreamed, — and  all  the  fragrant  earth 

Was  as  a  sailing  cloud. 
From  tears  and  sorrows,  for  my  mirth 
I  wove  a  rainbow  mist,  and  birth 

I  folded  in  death's  shroud. 

I  dreamed,  but  ever  from  the  vale 

Beneath  the  sun-drowsed  hills, 
There  rose  the  pulsing  of  the  flail, 
The  hiss  of  scythes,  the  mower's  hail, 
The  hum  of  water  mills: 


62  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

And  through  the  voices  of  the  fields 

A  sweeter  voice  that  said, 
"It  is  the  coward  heart  that  yields 
To  dreams  its  heritage,  nor  wields 

A  sword  unscabbarded." 

j 

Ah,  voice  that  singeth  bravely  there, 
Dost  think  that  dreams  are  peace? 

Dost  think  it  cowardice  to  dare 

Eternity  of  blind  despair 
For  gold  of  fairy  fleece? 


LYRICS  63 


THE  HILLS  OF  CLEEVE 

I  heard  the  fairies  keening  on  the  uplands 

yestereve 
When  scarce  the  vagrant  grey  of  dusk  was 

done, 
When  sheep  were  calling  darkly  down  the 

shadow  hills  of  Cleeve 
And  far  below  the  village  candles  shone. 

I  heard  the  hare-bells  knelling  in  the  wet 

wind  off  the  wold, 

I  heard  the  clouds  go  creeping  down  the  hill, 
I  heard  the  dew  soft  falling  from  the  last 

long  rifts  of  gold, 
I  heard  how  singingly  the  stars  were  still. 

I  heard  the  fairies  keening  on  the  uplands  all 

night  long, 

A-weeping  soft  and  sadly  for  their  queen; 
"She's  vanished  like  the  echo  of  her  own 

forlorn  sweet  song, 
She's  turned  our  twilight  dance  to  twilight 

teen. 


64  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

"Oh,  dreams  are  only  dim  desires,  and  songs 
are  only  tunes, 

The  flowers  deck  the  graves  of  other  years, 

The  Springs  are  fleeting  children  of  a  thou 
sand  fleeting  Junes, 

And  only  old  and  endless  are  our  tears." 


INDIAN  SUMMERS 

(0 

The  Day  of  Falling  Leaves 
When  gold  October  reaves 

The  May's 
Lost  Roundelays, 

When  Autumn  stoops  to  list 
The  wind,  mad  organist, 

Pipe  tunes 
Of  dancing  Junes, 

And  Autumn's  butterflies 
Drift  earthward,  petal-wise, 

A-swing 
On  perilous  wing, — 


LYRICS  65 

(2) 

So,  in  our  passion's  death, 
When  knowledge  whispereth 

With  wise 
Unholy  eyes, 

And  thy  sweet  flowered  mouth 
Is  grey  with  Autumn's  drouth 

And  love 
Dreams  not  thereof, 

Our  Day  of  Falling  Leaves 
Calls  back  the  Spring,  deceives 

The  sense 
With  transience. 


THE  REED-PLAYER 

(After  Macleod) 

A  hollow  reed  against  his  lips 

He  played  a  soaring  strain, 
That  fled  his  dancing  finger  tips 
Light  as  a  swallow  wheels  and  dips 
Above  the  flowing  grain. 


66  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

The  Song  of  Songs  it  was,  strange  wrought 

Beyond  the  heather  hills 
From  memories  and  dreams,  and  taught 
By  shepherd  women  who  had  caught 

Its  lilt  from  mountain  rills. 

The  beating  of  a  heart  I  heard 

In  that  forlorn  sweet  air, 
The  singing  of  a  distant  bird, 
A  sigh,  a  softly  uttered  word 

And  echoed  laughter  there. 

uPlay  me  a  song  of  Death,"  I  whispered  then. 
He  raised  his  hollow  reed  as  one  who  longs 
To  turn  to  dreams,  and  smiled,  and  played 

again 
The  Song  of  Songs. 


LYRICS  67 


BACCALAUREATE 

A  year  or  two,  and  grey  Euripides, 
And  Horace  and  a  Lydia  or  so, 
And  Euclid  and  the  brush  of  Angelo, 
Darwin  on  man,  Vergilius  on  bees, 
The  nose  and  dialogues  of  Socrates, 
Don  Quixote,  Hudibras  and  Trinculo, 
How  worlds  are  spawned  and  where  the  dead 

gods  go, — 
All  shall  be  shard  of  broken  memories. 

And  there  shall  linger  other,  magic  things, — 
The  fog  that  creeps  in  wanly  from  the  sea, 
The  rotten  harbor  smell,  the  mystery 
Of  moonlit  elms,  the  flash  of  pigeon  wings, 
The  sunny  Green,  the  old-world  peace  that 

clings 

About  the  college  yard,  where  endlessly 
The  dead  go  up  and  down.     These  things 

shall  be 
Enchantment  of  our  hearts'  rememberings. 


68  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

And  these  are  more  than  memories  of  youth 
Which  earth's  four  winds  of  pain  shall  blow 

away; 

These  are  youth's  symbols  of  eternal  truth, 
Symbols  of  dream  and  imagery  and  flame, 
Symbols  of  those  same  verities  that  play 
Bright  through  the  crumbling  gold  of  a  great 

name. 


REALITIES 


The  people  of  the  earth  go  down, 

Each  with  his  wealth  of  dream, 
To  barter  in  the  market  town 

A  star  for  a  torch's  gleam; 
To  barter  hope  for  certitude, 

And  mysteries  of  love 
For  passion's  little  interlude; 

And  joy  for  the  laugh  thereof. 

They  sell  their  treasuries  of  dreams 

For  dream's  realities, 
Their  wealth  of  fairy  quinqueremes 

For  ships  of  salter  seas, 


LYRICS  69 

Their  gods  for  shapes  of  tortured  stone, 
Their  faith  for  shrines  that  fall, 

The  unknown  for  the  touched  and  known, 
Life  at  the  living's  call. 

They  barter  songs  for  the  throat  that  sings, 

Frail  dawns  for  drowsing  days, 
Eternal  moods  for  brittle  Things, 

Thrush  notes  for  roundelays, 
The  flame  of  thorn  and  eglantine 

For  fallow  labored  lands, 
Tall  lilies  touched  of  Proserpine 

For  lilies  of  fair  hands. 

They  buy  and  pass  no  more  that  way; 

Their  eyes  forget  the  star, 
Forget  the  mysteries  of  May, 

Forget  the  dim  and  far. 
They  build  them  tower  and  high  wall 

To  bolt  against  the  spring, 
To  shutter  out  the  mavis'  call, 

And  heart's  remembering. 

II 

But  Time,  a  taper  guttering, 
Drops  in  a  slow  decay. 


70  TOWER  OF  IVORY 

And  Youth,  a  white  moth  fluttering, 
Blows  with  the  wind  away; 

And  walls  and  towers  made  of  hands, 
And  faith,  and  roundelay, 

And  laughter,  and  red  fallow  lands, 
Pass  like  the  withered  spray. 

And  certitude  grows  rank  with  ease, 

And  idols  turn  to  mold, 
And  passion's  cup  holds  bitter  lees, 

And  pale,  soft  hands  grow  cold; 
All  shimmering  reality, 

The  world  that  shines  and  seems, 
The  earth,  the  mountains  and  the  sea, 

Are  shadows  of  old  dreams. 


Ill 

Yet  when  the  splendor  of  the  earth 

Is  fallen  into  dust, 
When  plow  and  sword  and  fame  and  worth 

Are  rotted  with  black  rust, 
The  Dream,  still  deathless,  still  unborn, 

Blows  in  the  hearts  of  men, 
The  star,  the  mystery,  the  morn, 

Bloom  agelessly  again. 


LYRICS  7 1 

Older  than  Time  with  ages  shod, 

The  matins  of  a  thrush, 
Deeper  than  reverence  of  God, 

The  summer  evening's  hush. 
Than  trampling  death  is  grief  more  strong, 

Love  than  its  avatars, 
And  echo  of  an  echoed  song 

Shall  shake  the  eternal  stars. 


LOAN  DEPT 


-D 


JULl    1963 


D  2lA-5m-, 
(D3279slO)476t 


/#/£* 


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